What I'm Living For
by SailorCheesy
Summary: Russia finds out America cuts himself. Rated M for blood and cutting.


Alfred walks into the meeting room, a fake, cheerful smile on his face as he walks over and sits next to England, nibbling on some French fries from _McDonalds_. He looks around the room slowly, his blue eyes surveying every nation with a dull, bored expression.

Only one person notices that the American's eyes don't contain their usual sparkle.

"You bloody git, do you ever stop eating?" England asks.

"Shut up, eyebrows." America replies.

England's face flushes and he mutters "Little brat..." As Germany stands up and calls the meeting to order.

Immediately, all talking in the room ceases, except for, of course, Italy, who is currently talking animatedly with Spain about using his fresh tomatoes in his pasta for dinner tonight! Germany frowns, a vein popping on his forehead, but he ignores the small Italian man and begins to speak.

* * *

The meeting drags on rather dully, in America's opinion. Though, everything seemed dull lately... Almost as dull as he was, according to the other countries. He was a dim-witted idiot who only thought about food, to everyone else. Nobody liked him. Nobody wanted to be around him; he was too stupid, in their minds, to understand them. After all, one so obnoxious as him should be fine on his own, right? He had such a big ego, why should he need friends, right? And the worst part?

America believed it.

He believed everything they said about him. He didn't have hope for tomorrow anymore. He didn't consider himself a hero, but a coward. He was as insignificant as sand on a beach to everyone else. Nobody needed him, or wanted him.

Still, he slapped on that dumb, horrible smile and walked into the World Meetings like nothing was wrong. He was too afraid the others would laugh at him, call him a coward, though he knew he was one, because of how he felt. How alone he was. And he wouldn't be called a coward. He was a person, even if not a very good one, and he didn't deserve the teasing.

But, does anyone, really?

So, the meeting ends, and everyone files out.

Except for two people.

America pulls out his phone, not noticing the other person in the room, and starts to play _Angry Birds_ on his phone, smiling as a giant red bird smashes into the little wooden blocks, killing the green pigs underneath.

Russia breathes in silently, staring at the blonde man on the other side of the table with curious violet orbs.

"Damn," America sighs, suddenly pulling off his coat, he inspects bandages wrapped around his wrist. Bandages stained red.

Russia's breath catches in his throat, his violet eyes widening. America jerks his head up, staring at the Russian, he grabs his coat and hurriedly pulls it on, covering his wrist, and a fake smile makes it's way onto his face.

"Don't even try to fake it, Amerika." Russia says, his icy stare moving to America's wrist.

"Fake what, dude?" America gives a high-pitched laugh and starts walking towards the door.

Russia stands up and moves in front of the giant white doors. "_Alfred." _He grabs the American's sleeve, "Did you do that to yourself."

America pulls his sleeve away, his bottom lip quivering, "N-No."

"Let me see it."

"No."

"Let me see it."

"No! Leave me alone, communist bastard."

Russia grabs the blonde's wrist and forces his sleeve down angrily. More blood starts to seep through at the impact of Russia's hand squeezing his wrist. The silver-haired man's eyes widen even more, and he looks into the American's face, his piercing stare softening.

"Why."

America's blue eyes glisten with tears. "I-I... Just... Leave me alone! You wouldn't get it!" He tries to pull away, but Russia's grip hardens.

"Please, Alfredka, tell me."

"Nobody cares about me. You're only doing this so you can use it against me later." America says, tears spilling onto his cheeks.

"No—No, Alfredka—That isn't at _all _why I'm doing this."

"Then why are you?" America shouts, "I'm annoying, stupid, and fat! Why do you bother, if not to get something from me?!"

"Alfred. Look at me." Russia says.

America slowly looks up into the taller man's face.

"I'm here because you are what I'm living for." Russia says, staring intensely into the younger man's eyes, "And I will not allow you to kill yourself this way."

At these words, America breaks down into hysterical sobbing. Russia pulls the younger man into him and rubs his back as America shakes, his sobs wracking his body and the tears wetting the shoulder of his white jacket. Russia folds the American into him gently, as though the blonde might break in his arms.

"Alfred, I beg you to promise me that you will never do that again."

America nods, pulling away. "There's something I've wanted to tell you." He says, wiping his eyes and giving the Russian a genuine smile.

Russia tilts his head to the side.

"Я люблю тебя, Россия."

"I love you too, Amerika."


End file.
